Life goes on. I drift in circles on its river, caught in an eddy that takes me out and back to shore without ever going anywhere. Occasionally I escape from eddy into another, then drift again, lazily spinning in place. I wait most of my days for the freedom to shed my flip-flops and dig my toes into soft grass and fine sands. It is at the tail end of the sun’s intrepid path across the sky that I gain this freedom. I bask in it, revel in it, then cuddle up with a small black dog and let the chemicals of Morpheus wash me away into whatever worlds he has in store for me. While I don’t have nightmares, I don’t think my dreams are kind to me. I rarely wake feeling rested.
This isn’t to say that life isn’t good. I am taking steps toward my goals. I have given my personal life more purpose and companionship. Work is where I wallow in the sluggish turning of tepid waters. I dislike work.
The weekend was good. On Friday I had friends over and we played Dungeons and Dragons in the fire pit with a crackling roar in the center. Saturday I gave away to the challenges of Civilization V, before having dinner with my dad and his company. We were visited by one of his former co-workers, the man’s wife and their two children. One child is four months or so and their little girl is two and a half. She decided she liked me, kissed my cheek and told me I was handsome.
Sunday was busy. I did very little in the morning, but made much of the afternoon. Once my dad had gone to town I took all three dogs for a walk down the river. Mira had no problem swimming across to stay with us. After a few oxbows we got out on the property next to ours and walked back home.
After I put the dogs away, I pumped up the tires on the bike in the garage and tossed it in the back of our white truck. I drove it down the road to a turn off on the river, parked it and rode the bike the half mile or so back to the house. Then I put the kayak on the back of an ATV, hauled it down to the river and unloaded it. Took the ATV back home, walked back to the kayak in the water and off I went!
When I went kayaking last week I took it slower and floated a bit more. I’m not certain why, but I was more motivated to push and get the float done. I still enjoyed it, but it was different than the previous experience. Though the drive and bike ride probably took 15 minutes including parking and unloading, the float probably takes around 45 minutes to an hour. Plenty of opportunities to see what’s around the river bend.
Once home again I decided to load the truck with some of the wood we had split and stack it in the walls of our. . . rustic gazebo. If you can imagine an octagonal gazebo made of telephone poles and a pea gravel floor with a green and brown tin roof, you are starting to get the picture. The fire pit is in the center of this building and a tiny cupola stands at the peak to let the smoke escape. As my dad says, if he ever had to do it again he’d build it a foot taller and the hole beneath the cupola wider. It doesn’t quite have enough draw, especially in the winter.
After I finished stacking wood, I decided to call it a day and spent the rest of the evening browsing the internet, reading a good book on my Kindle for PC app, and playing with Mira whenever she wasn’t napping. The swim kicked her butt pretty well, though, so she was fairly calm. I swear that puppy has endless energy sometimes. I rediscovered our treat ball on Saturday, however, so now she’s getting at least one meal a day in that. Makes her work for it and eat slower. All kinds of win there.
The quest for romance continues, but does not bode well. Current thought is to give up again for a while. The whole online thing continues to feel like hitting my head against a brick wall. Honestly, the only place I have ever had success with that is craigslist. I have been on three dates over the last year and a half via CL, one of which turned into something brief but good. What do you think the difference is? The fact that no one can sit and say, “I’ll wait for him to come to me?”
I wonder what factor contributes most to the lack of response. Other, more interesting prospects? Distance? I don’t particular think being unphotogenic helps. That’s a fact, not an insecurity. I can recognize good pictures of me. There just aren’t many of them. That “ten pounds” the camera hands out makes me look like a lard butt that I am most definitely not.
I keep changing my profile, hoping that I’ll hit on the right words to woo and win. My difficulty there isn’t having nothing to say about myself, but too much. (I’m sure this surprises you.) When I make an effort to be succinct I feel like I am cheating myself and not representing what I have to offer fairly. Oh well. Work in progress, like everything else in my life.
In the meantime, I will go home tonight to a 12 week old, 30ish pound, black wiggling creature who is always happy to see me. Can’t beat that. She’s not much of a conversationalist, though.
Before I close, I’d like to mention that I wrote a song last night. I think it’s pretty good. I called it, Six-string Love Song.
The first stanza:
My guitar’s like a lover
I only call when I’m lonely
I pretend I don’t know
that she waits by the phone.
And a thousand words, goodnight.